


hold me and watch

by turnpikedarling



Series: when i eat you up [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:12:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnpikedarling/pseuds/turnpikedarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>allison's boys wake her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold me and watch

**Author's Note:**

> just a moment in this world of theirs. originally posted on tumblr! but the post got deleted. [come say hi](http://www.mickeyed.tumblr.com)!

Allison wakes up slowly to a soft light on her face in the warm morning, the alarm long since turned off, a heavy hand carding through her hair to pull her out of sleep. She turns into it and presses her face against Stiles’ chest, bare and waiting for her weight.

“Allison,” she hears, a quiet murmur from the other end of the bed. Someone’s nudging her knees apart, tapping insistently as her legs slide farther and farther open.

“Allison,” she hears again. This time it’s muffled against her calf, smooth lips against her skin and traveling inward.

“Can he?” That one’s a different voice, but just as familiar, just as smooth. 

She opens her eyes just a crack and finds Stiles smiling down at her, a fond little smirk on his face. Allison didn’t really hear him, too busy shaking out the cobwebs, so she asks, “What?”

“He really wants to,” Stiles tells her, shrugging sarcastically like it’s a _total shock_ , and Allison finally looks down to the end of the bed where Derek is smiling sheepishly up at her from between her legs. He looks happy and a little punch-drunk and he’s biting at the corner of his lip in a haze, eyes darting between her face and her cunt. She’s splayed open before him, his breath on her skin, and she knows he’s waiting for their go-ahead before he lets himself touch.

Allison blinks herself awake just a little bit more and leans up, cradles a hand around Stiles’ cheek and kisses him, not chaste, a little like sugar and sin.

These are her favorite mornings: sweet men in her bed, sun on the edges of the room and nowhere to be until the afternoon. 

“Hey, you,” she mumbles, smiling down at Derek. “You can,” she tells him, nodding and laughing at them. She flops back onto the pillows and sees Stiles look at Derek.

“Go ahead, babe,” Stiles tells him, and Allison curls in on herself the first second Derek gets his mouth on her. He hums into her skin and swipes his tongue over her clit, tasting slow circles around her as he presses further in. He gets his nose right in the soft curls there and takes a breath and she almost shivers and shakes him off it’s so sweet.

Allison puts her arms above her head and curls them under the pillow as she arches up under Derek’s mouth, wet and hot and perfect. He gave up trying to write the ABCs a long time ago and knows now that the point of his tongue isn’t going to do anything worthwhile at all, so Derek uses the base of it, the whole thing to slide a stripe up through her and suck her clit in between his teeth, teasing just a little, and Allison keens into it, whispering, “More, more, Derek, more.”

She finally lets her eyes close just as Stiles leans down and grabs one of her nipples in his teeth, and she wonders how they got here, the three of them, how their life became drowsy morning sex and wool socks in the winter and always hand in hand, never ever apart.  
  
If she’s being honest, she doesn’t really care about the hows of it all when Derek’s sliding a finger into her, curling it just right, sliding his tongue in with it and fucking into her like he needs it more than she does. He moans and she moans and the shock of it all goes through her so quickly she whines, “Faster, faster, come on, fuck, fuck me, please.”

“You heard the lady,” Stiles tells Derek, pulling off of her long enough to reach down and tug Derek’s hair. 

Allison reaches up and grabs Stiles’ chin, eyes wide open as she bucks herself onto Derek’s fingers, buried deep into her and dragging her out of herself, a welcome dismantling, a fucking blessing.

“Hey,” she tells Stiles.

“Hey,” he says back. “Hey,” Stiles repeats, “He loves you, you know. He loves you, he loves the way you taste, he loves the way you say his name, he fucking loves you,” he tells her, and Allison nods frantically as Derek picks up the pace, rolls his tongue around her clit, slides in and out of her again and again. She comes like she’s falling, dropping fast and can’t stop it and screaming into the dim and quiet room, Stiles’ hands in her hair and Derek’s fingers still deep inside of her. 

“I have no idea,” Allison breathes when she finally gets the chance again, “how I ever made it through life without that.”

Derek grins and pulls out of her, climbs up the bed and flops down there. Allison turns and kisses him rough, tastes herself on his lips and smiles into it. She turns the other way and grabs a handful of Stiles’ hair and pulls her to him, kisses him too, and she settles in between them like that, their girl. Or they’re her boys, she thinks, much better that way. She wraps an arm around them both and they fall asleep like that. They don’t wake up again until the afternoon, until Lydia’s banging on the door and threatening to call her father, until they roll out of bed and start their day together, like that, always together.


End file.
